


Guardian Angel

by theonehewaitsfor



Category: The OA (TV)
Genre: Angst, Back-Stabbing, Betrayal, F/M, Lies, Loss, Unrequited Love, Unrequited Lust
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-06-03 03:09:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19455088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theonehewaitsfor/pseuds/theonehewaitsfor
Summary: Hap has been betrayed, Prairie keeping it a secret that she's regained her sight. So, Hap strikes back where he knows it will hurt. But in turn, he hurts himself even further. In an accident, Prairie ends up dying and it's up to both her and Hap to bring her back. Prairie must choose, the final time with Khatun. Hap must work to physically revive her, pouring his heart and soul into the project. He cannot lose her. Ultimately, it's Prairie's decision.





	1. So Far

“ _Prairie._ ”

Rising to her feet from the bed, the young woman raised her hands above her head and turned slowly in a circle. Dr. Hunter Aloysius Percy, better known to her as Hap, unlocked the door and waited for her to come to him. As she did, he angrily grabbed onto the back of her arm, squeezing her as he shoved her towards the stairs.

“Take me back down there.” She ordered as soon as the door was shut and locked, the keypad beeping and changing its light from green to red.

“I tell you when it’s time to go back downstairs.” He shoved her forward and they entered the kitchen. It was the evening, but Prairie was unsure of what time of year it was. According to the clock on the stove, it was 7:13 PM. It was too dark to be summer, so she devised it was at least fall.

“Why?”

“Because you forced me to.”

Prairie shook her head, her face pinched together as she fought back tears. “There were only two things I wanted for myself. Just two. And you took both of them away.”

“I took nothing away. A choice was made.” Hap positioned himself between the door of the galley kitchen,

“No! You stole him from me!” Prairie cried, crystal tears streaming in curving rivers over her cheeks.

“I didn’t take him from you. Homer chose Renata. He chose that path.”

“He chose it only because he had no other options. You would have killed him, just like you did August!”

Hap took a hold of Prairie’s creamy wrists, tiny beneath his wide hands. She gasped at his touch, her eyes meeting his. “No, Prairie. You, you were the one to force me to give Homer the choice.”

“Stop!” She cried. Hap shoved her against the refrigerator, their bodies wedged together. Prairie turned her head away as not to feel his hot breath against her lips. His scent, crisp and acidic, bore into her nostrils. Clenching her eyes shut, Prairie wondered if she would have to kill him. Fear coursed through her, an icicle stabbing her through the heart. She couldn’t. But, if she had to, she would.

“Let me go.” She whispered, turning back to face the acrid scent of cigarettes on his breath.

“I’m not finished with you.” Hap yanked the young woman around, gritting his teeth as he clenched his jaw.

“You have taken everything important from me. Everything I have ever loved.” Her voice was low and haunting as she stared at him.

“Good.” He uttered soundly, enunciated clearly.

“But no matter how much you take, you will _never_ have me.”

She felt herself fall backwards before she even realized what had happened. It was as if the world was slowing just for her. Hap’s arms were outstretched, his palms flat towards her. Prairie’s body was flailing, trying to find anything to stop her. Haunted by his hauntingly luminescent eyes, Prairie felt her head hit the corner of the counter with a sickening _crack_.

Then, just Hap. Hap dropping to his knees. A single tear falling from his eye onto her tattered purple sweater.


	2. Orphan

There was so much water; so much that Prairie thought she was drowning beneath the bus again. Instead, she found that she broke through to the surface, gasping for air. Frantically, she clutched at her chest, the pressure in her head releasing.

“Are you okay!?” A familiar voice startled her as she whipped her head around, her surroundings new and frightening. “Nina?”

“Hap?” She questioned, looking down at the man lying next to her. They were positioned side by side in a bed, comfortably tucked beneath a heavy down comforter.

“Hap? My God, you haven’t called me that in years. What’s the matter? Did you have a nightmare?” He sat up slowly, withdrawing the covers from his naked body. Prairie looked away at once, her belly growing cold with nausea. This was an NDE. She knew it… But God, it seemed so real.

“I think--I think so.” She stuttered, watching him as he crawled over to her side of the bed, smoothing the hair from her damp forehead.

“Oh, your nose. This always does this!” He jumped out of bed, his naked manhood swinging as he journeyed through the dark room, disappearing.

Prairie wiped the blood from above her lip, climbing to her feet. Feeling to her right, she found a lamp upon the nightstand, and she turned it on. The room flooded with light, the woman taken aback. Across the room, there were windows that reached from floor to ceiling, which were concealed by dark grey curtains. A pale cornflower blue, the walls wrapped around the room, bordering the large space. On the nightstand, Prairie found a picture of herself. But, she wasn’t alone in the portrait. Hap had his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her into a tight embrace. She wore a dress of white lace, falling down to the ground, a mountain scene surrounding them. Hap wore a tuxedo, his black hair slicked back from his tanned face. Gasping, she dropped the picture frame, glass shattering on the hardwood floors around her bare feet.

Prairie stood, naked and petrified when Hap returned with a handful of toilet paper. “Here you--what happened?”

“I--I dropped the picture. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, sweetheart. It’s okay.” Hap hurried to her side, ordering her to climb onto the bed. She obeyed, pulling the covers around her. Shame brimmed within her, being naked before a man she felt as if she didn’t know.

“What’s my name?” she asked as Hap bent over to pick up the pieces of glass. On his left hand, a gold wedding band shimmered under the lamp light.

“Nina Percy.”

“Nina. Percy…? We’re married?”

“Of course! We’ve been married for almost five years now.”

After he left the room once more, returning with a dustpan, Nina’s nose had finally stopped bleeding. Hap straightened, brushing the leftover shards of glass into a waste bin at the side of the nightstand. He crawled over her on the bed, lying down in his spot. Across from him, a digital clock read 6:07.

“Sweetheart, what’s the matter? Are you confused again?”

“I don’t… I don’t know what’s going on, Hap.”

“Nina, it’s Hunter. Not Hap.” He corrected, pulling on her shoulder to have her lie back against a pillow.

“Right. I-I know,” she stuttered, her eyes pinched shut.

“It always happens this time of year… You get this way. Come here,” he offered, opening his arms for her. Nina turned over in the bed, her back up against his chest. Hunter’s firm body was flush against hers, her curved bottom at the bulge of his groin. “Mmm. You smell so good.” He inhaled the scent of her clean hair, silky as came over her naked body in a waterfall of pale blonde.

His touch, soft despite his hard-working hands, curved over her narrow waist. In the nude, the pair were concealed beneath two layers: a sheet and a down comforter. Nina closed her eyes, sleep calling to her, but she couldn’t. She must stay awake--none of this was right. She had remembered falling, Hap pushing her. But how did she end up here?

Her eyes flipped open, feeling Hunter’s hand caressing her supple breast. He stirred behind her, a fire burning in his manhood. Nina swallowed heavily, freezing. Was he…? He was. He was hard, pushing his member against her.

It felt right, but some tiny twinge inside of her was shouting _NO_! With the slip of his finger, Nina’s hair fell over her shoulder and down her back in the slim cavern between them. With the curve of her neck ripe for the taking, his lips found the spot beneath her ear, the place in which she loved being kissed the most.

“I love you, Nina.” he whispered, Hunter’s voice honest and gristly in her ear.


	3. Homeless

“No no no no no! Prairie. Prairie look at me. Prairie.” Hap lifted her head, retracting his hand and shoving himself away from her body. Crimson and soaking, he wiped the blood onto his cargo pants before touching her face, his hand sweeping over her forehead to smooth the white-blonde hair from her rounded porcelain forehead.

“Prairie, please! Come back. Come back.” 

Clutching at her body, he brought the limp, soulless cocoon to his chest. Hap rocked her, sobbing grossly, choking as his breath caught. The only person he could blame was himself--the most important thing to him was gone. 

When he felt her heartbeat, at the pulsing carotid artery beneath her jaw, Hap clapped a bloody hand over his mouth. “Oh.. Oh my God.” he uttered, pulling her to him once again. 

It had been even longer than the first time she had died on him. He had nearly killed her twice. Well, he had killed her more times than he could count, but Prairie had always returned. Usually it was less than five minutes. But this time, it had been nearly 10. He had done CPR, round after round. Sweat was pouring from his forehead, his button-down flannel drenched. Blood had pooled around them, the knees of his cargo pants sticky with the crimson liquid. 

Hap lifted her into his arms, supporting her neck, and carried her out of the kitchen and into the bathroom. In the place in which he had placed August’s body, he also placed Prairie’s. He thanked whatever God there was that he wouldn’t have to bury this woman. Guilt settled in his core as he realized he would have to take her clothes off and wash her after he had sutured the back of her head. 

After he finished tying off the last knot, Hap’s eyes wandered over her body, the filthy cotton dress ruined with her precious, healthy red blood. The only salvageable items were her white shoes, which had miraculously made it through the ordeal without a drop. Deftly, he slipped the sweater from her shoulders, putting it in a pile beneath the towel rack on the wall. What would he dress her in? He thought, sliding his index finger up the bridge of his nose to adjust his glasses. It didn’t matter right now. He would find something while he tried to wash her clothes, he thought. Finally, he slipped off the last sock, her body bare and pale. 

Instantly he flipped around, clenching his eyes shut. “I can’t… I can’t do this. It’s wrong,” he whispered to himself. And yet, he knew it needed to be done. Turning back to face the job at hand, he turned on the water and made sure it was warm. As the water rose, it began to grow pink, darkening to an almost apple red color. Hap focused on washing her body, including the parts he didn’t dare want to touch. Deep inside, he did want to touch her there, in the most precious, lovable corners of her body. But, as he removed the washcloth from beneath her arms, her petite breasts jiggling slightly, he knew he would only ever touch her with permission. It was far beneath him to take advantage of her, no matter his immense love for her. 

As he carried her naked body into his bedroom, Hap laid her carefully on top of the bed. Her hair was wrapped in a towel, the way many women wore it. He had struggled, finally twisting it just the right way to stay put. If he had a hairdryer, he would have dried it before carrying her out. Instead, he withdrew the towel from her hair, massaging the hair with the cotton, squeezing water from the flaxen locks. 

After he was satisfied with her hair, Hap went into his closet and found something suitable for her to wear. He had a pair of pajama pants and a simple grey waffle-shirt that would keep her warm. Outside, snow had begun to pile up, equating to nearly two feet. The view outside of his bedroom windows were picture perfect, the trees coated with heavy powder, periodic dustings falling from the limbs. Hap hoped that she would be okay without a pair of underwear, as he had nothing of the sort. He made a mental note to order some with his next delivery, praying that her size was right. 

Just as before, he set up the blue camera next to the bed, adjusting it so that it displayed her on the computer monitor at his workstation. Once he had settled into the chair, he slipped his headphones on to listen to a song by Arch/ Matheos. And then, he waited.


	4. Paradox

They had slept very little, possibly only another hour. When they awoke, Nina and Hunter laid in bed talking. He told her stories of how they had met, when they had gotten married, and their plans for the future. More than once, Nina felt herself grow deeper in understanding for the man she had once known to be troubled. Now, she could hardly look at him without feeling an unfamiliar tug in her chest. 

Later that morning, Nina sat in bed fiddling with her thumbs, await Hunter’s return. He had promised her breakfast in bed, and in less than 20 minutes, delivered it. Her very favorite, french toast with strawberries, orange juice and one sausage patty. 

“Now, there’s something we need to talk about.” 

Nina turned her head towards Hunter, seated at the foot of the bed, donned only in a pair of black sweatpants. “Mmm?” She questioned, her mouth full of french toast.

“You need think hard.” 

“Okay.” She smiled, sipping her orange juice. 

“You’re going to have to choose whether or not you want to return. And this, is a very serious decision because it’s permanent.” Hunter’s body began to swirl, a myriad of colors blending before her eyes. Khatun appeared, in place of where her husband had been sitting. 

“Khatun?” 

“Hello, Nina. I’m sad that we must meet again. However, this will be the final time. The last time we met, you chose for me to give you something when you returned. This time, I will offer something different, a sacrifice no matter what you decide.” 

Nina put down her fork, moving the tray to sit beside her in the bed. She pulled the covers back, still naked, crawling on the floor to sit at Khatun’s bare feet. They were covered in tattoos, just as her face was, ancient script written, like it were engraved in stone. 

“But why can’t I have both? Just this once.” 

“Nina, there are so many things you do not yet know. But, in time, you will learn.” 

“I know, Khatun. Can’t it wait a little longer?” 

“If you wait any longer, you risk not being able to return.” Khatun’s hand reached out and fell onto the crown of her light blonde hair. 

“Hap is so good to me here. Maybe we’re destined to be together? I just… I don’t want to go back to how it was before. I thought he cared about me, but he cares only for what I can give him. Here, he loves me. He loves me for who I am; me as a whole.” 

Nina felt a single tear glide down her cheek, and Khatun’s elongated finger wiped it up before Nina could even move her own hand. “Then you have made your decision?” 

“Give me just a few more minutes, Khatun. Let me talk to him. I will make my decision then.” 

“But, do you know the sacrifices that you must endure?” Her voice softened, sadness welling deep within it. 

“I don’t want to know. Whatever I choose, I will live with it. All actions have a consequence.” 

Khatun pressed her lips against Nina’s forehead, her eyes closing. When Nina opened them, she saw Hunter’s face glowing, sunlight flowing in from the windows to their right. “I don’t want you to go.” 

“But, the others,” Nina whispered. Hunter’s hand caressed her face, gliding beneath her chin. He pulled it upwards, lifting her to stand. Her naked form was pure, slender and innocent before his gaze. Wrapping his arms around her waist, Hunter pulled her to him, his lips pressed against the base of her sternum. 

“I know… If you go back, I hope that one day I will let them go. And maybe then, you’ll find forgiveness for me. For everything I did. I’m sorry.” 

“You’re lying,” Nina started, pushing away. “You’re lying so that I’ll stay here.” 

“Is it so wrong that I want you here, with me? We’re happy, Nina. We’re happy here. We have made a home for each other. None of the past is here.” 

“Homer, Renata, Rachel! Scott! They’re down in cells, rotting away while you help us to die over and over.” Nina cried, reaching for the blanket on the bed, wrapping it around herself. Suddenly ashamed, tears began to rest in the rim of her eyes. 

“And none of that is here. Who’s to say that once you decide to stay here that it will all go away? What if I’ve released them because without you everything is a total loss? Take the chance, Nina.” Hunter stood, pulling her to him. His arms enveloped her, his tan, wide hands stretching over her back. Kissing her ear lobe softly, she wiggled with the shiver that shot down her spine. 

“I can’t,” she whispered, grimacing. “Homer. If not for anything else, for Homer.” 

“You love him more than me?” Hunter asked, knitting his eyebrows together. His lips parted, quivering as he looked at her in confusion. Anguish formed, his teeth reaching out and biting his lip. He shook his head, his eyes darting away from her as he began to cry. 

“I can’t… I can’t do this. I wish I could stay. More than anything I do… But no matter where I go, you’ll betray me. It’s what you do, Hap.” 

“Please, Nina!” He cried, reaching out for her as she clamped her eyes shut. 

Hap rushed into the bedroom, flinging the door open as she sat up suddenly. Prairie lifted her hand, placing it at the back of her head as she groaned. Mid-afternoon sun filtered in through the curtains, slivers of light falling over her. 

“I’m going to be sick,” she mumbled, just as Hap lifted the waste bin for her, waiting for her to take a hold of it. But, she didn’t. Prairie fumbled around, searching for it until it brushed against her shin. Bile emptied out of her into the trash can, her body heaving as it worked hard to expel anything in her stomach. 

Prairie wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, closing her eyes as she settled back against the pillow. Grimacing, she curled herself into a ball, hugging her knees to her chest. 

“It was even longer this time. Almost 10 minutes. I thought you were gone.” 

She said nothing, but had begun to shiver. Hap moved to the end of the bed, grabbing the old Navajo blanket, pulling the vivid piece over her tiny form. He sat close to her, his hand gently caressing her shoulder. Prairie shrugged him off of her, like a small child would. 

“Don’t touch me.” 

“Prairie, I-” 

“I’m blind, Hap.” 

He withdrew his hand, his lips parting with disbelief. A wave of nausea coursed through him, and for a brief moment, he thought he was too, going to be sick. But, it subsided, despite the guilt that was building. Hap knew. He knew that he had caused it. 

Prairie, pushing herself from the bed, let the blanket fall off of her shoulders as she stood. Turning, she felt for the door, finding it and making her way halfway to the basement door before she tripped over Hap’s computer chair, tumbling to the ground. 

Hap raced to her, lifting under her arms to raise her back onto her feet. “I said don’t touch me!” She screamed, shrill. Prairie’s hands slowly transformed into fists, clenching them just before she began to pound them against Hap’s chest. He grunted, fumbling for her, grappling for her arms to steady her. One fist flung free, knocking his glasses off of his face, his eye stinging from the impact. 

“Prairie, stop!” He roared, shaking her viciously. 

“I hate you!” She cried, throwing herself against his chest. 

Stunned, Hap wrapped his arms around her, holding her to him. He closed his eyes, inhaling the scent of her hair, memorizing the moment.


	5. Oblivion

“Do you love me?” She asked as he lifted the covers, tucking them beneath her chin. Hap froze, his palms damp with nervous sweat. How could she ask him that? His brain raced through a conglomeration of answers, but only avoidance came to be his decision.

“Go to sleep, Prairie.” 

“Answer my question,” she ordered, sleeping hiding in her voice. 

“I--Well, I--I--” he hesitated.

“If you love me, you’ll let me and the others go.” 

Hap sat awkwardly beside her on the edge of the bed. He had one hand against the sheets, the other pressed against his thigh, restraining himself. Pinching his eyes shut, he shook his head as he let out a sigh. “I can’t. I can’t let you go. Now, go to sleep, Prairie.” 

He left the door open with just a crack of light seeping into the bedroom. Nestling himself into his chair in front of the computer monitors, he wiped the sleep from his eyes. As he had told Prairie once before, sleep was a great inconvenience to him, and he required sleeping pills to aid him in the necessary venture. However, as he watched her fall asleep in his bed, Hap felt his eyes grow heavy, and finally, his head lolled to one side and he drifted deep into an abyss. 

Prairie fumbled out of the bed, feeling for the open door. Stubbing her toe on something cold and hard, a crashing sound frightened her. Falling to her knees, she felt around with the tips of her elongated fingers, searching for the item she was afraid she had broken. When her hand grazed the surface of the rounded camera, she sighed with relief. It was still attached to its metal tripod, so Prairie raised it back to sit on its three legs. She hoped that it was staring at an empty bed, and not somewhere else. A strange noise distrubed the silence, and she paused as she climbed to her feet. Her fingers wrapped around the door frame, the hallway in front of her echoing with heavy, deep exhales that seemed to waiver.

A smile curtained across her face, the slightest white of her teeth bared. Hap was snoring, and the noise was quite comical to her. Then, her smile dissolved. He was asleep; she could use the phone, call for help, and rescue the others. But first, she needed to use the bathroom, her bladder was painful and sharp in the pit of her abdomen. Prairie felt along the wood paneling of the hallway, taking a right to step onto cool tile. From her memory, the toilet was at the end of the room, beside the deep bathtub. Chills raced down her spine--the sickly sweet smell of August’s body, floating in spoiled bathwater filled her nostrils. As she sat down on the toilet, she realized that she wore no underwear. It had been the first time Prairie recognized her change of clothes--she had been naked. Naked before him, her body exposed and vulnerable to Hap’s tainted view of her. 

Prairie flushed, hurried over to the sink and leaned her head down to splash water on her face. Nausea was sweeping through her once again, the bitter taste of pennies creeping up the back of her throat. After a few moments of deep breathing, she planted her palms against the surface of the counter. Something grazed her fingers, and Prairie extended them to rest her hand on the bristles of a hair brush. Her lips parted, a small sigh escaping from between them. As she lifted the brush upwards, she swept it through her hair, matted and more than likely bloodied. Gingerly, she combed through the back of her locks, grimacing as she tugged through areas of crusting. The pain became overwhelming, so she stopped and placed the hair brush back where it belonged after she grabbed a handful of hair from its bristles. 

“Prairie?” Hap knocked on the door, startling the woman. She flipped around, her fingers grasping the curved edge of the counter. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m coming out.” She uttered, her hand reaching out for the door knob, turning it and pulling the door open. The stale scent of sleep invaded her space, Hap clearly standing just a few inches in front of her. 

“How are you feeling?” 

Prairie slipped past him, traveling down the hallway to round the corner and enter the kitchen. As her fingers grazed the corner across from the refrigerator, she stopped. “Like someone pushed me to the ground and I got a concussion.” 

“I’m sorry about that.” Hap stood behind her, studying her smooth hair. He deciphered that she had used his hair brush while in the bathroom.

“Do you have any oatmeal?” 

“Uh, yes. The left cabinet above the stove. Second shelf. Do you want me to-” 

“This isn’t the first time I’ve lost my sight.” She replied, cutting him off. Her eyes shifted around, never landing on his face. 

Hap’s face fell in disappointment, knowing fully that she was blind when he waved his hand vigorously in front of her eyes. She did not flinch, but instead turned and reached for the oatmeal. His waffle shirt that she wore slid up with the stretch of her arms, displaying her slim waist and oval belly button. A deep desire stirred in his throat, and he suppressed the urge to groan. Hap wanted to shove her against the counter and swirl his tongue around the rounded dip in her skin. 

“Will you tell me about your NDE?” 

“Which one?” 

“Did you… Did you have one when you hit your head?” Hap laid a hand on her wrist, stopping her as she began to pour the oatmeal into a cracked bowl. Prairie froze, his eyes wide. 

“Don’t touch me, please.” She whispered, sliding her hand away from his damp palm. Hap’s hand rested against the stovetop, his lips pursed together in frustration. 

“Prairie, did you have another NDE?” Soberly, Hap asked her, backing away to lean against the sink opposite of her. 

Her white-blonde hair seemed to float as she turned around, staring at him, her milky-blue eyes pointed at his shoulder. “That’s private.” 

“If you tell me, I’ll let you make a real breakfast for everyone.” 

Prairie’s eyebrows lifted, her lips slowly peeling apart. “Do you promise?”   
“Yes.” He replied, a smile creeping across his face.


	6. Day One

“Can I make breakfast first?”

“That’s not what we promised.” Hap argued, sighing with pursed lips.

“This NDE is… _Private._ Something I’ve never come close to experiencing. I don’t even know what to make of it.”

Hap contemplated the proposition for a brief moment, then made his decision. “I… I can’t trust you, Prairie. Not after you tried to escape, challenged me, and lied to me.”

Prairie wiped her hands on the surface of the black sweatpants she wore, crossing her arms over her chest. Beneath the shirt, her nipples had grown erect, two protruding dots on her chest, bilaterally. “Fine. Can I sit down?”

“Of course, of course.” Hap uttered, letting the woman walk past him. She found her way into the living room, nestling herself in the middle of the worn leather sofa, it creaking beneath her weight.

“When I woke up, we…” She cleared her throat. “We were in bed together. I found out that we were married. But, none of this, with us being locked away, had ever happened. None of us, Homer, Rachel…”

Prairie reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her pale ear, wedging her hands between her thighs nervously. “We… We were naked, and we... We were very close. You called me Nina, and you went by Hunter.” She froze for a brief moment. “I can’t. I can’t do this.” She stood abruptly, starting to turn away.

“If you don’t tell me, your friends won’t get any breakfast, _pellets included_.” Hap interjected, his voice low with frustration. He had surprised himself at the order, but he wanted to hear the rest. No, he needed to hear it. Her NDE included them... _Together!_ They were _married_ \--his dream! Finally, nothing in the way, no boundaries or ridiculous bullshit.

Prairie pivoted back around, her hands flat at her sides, her eyes red-rimmed with crystal tears. “You lied.”

“So did you.” He retorted, sighing as he removed the wire-framed glasses from his face. They were his working glasses--bifocals specially designed for up close work.

“This was very private, Hap. I’ve done everything in front of you--shit, pissed, cried, everything. I’ve never been more vulnerable in my life. So blame me for being a little upset about having to share this you.”

He cleared his throat, watching her as she began to pace across the open room, from the window to his left to the bookshelf on the right. Prairie had one hand on her hip, the other with her fingers curled at her lips.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Prairie stopped abruptly, turning her body to face Hap directly, her eyes fluttering shut as she shook her head in disappointment. “The thing that bothered me the most, was that it was so real. It was like it was always meant to be that way."

“Was anyone else there? Or was it just us?”

“Just us,” she lied. “We were happy.”

“Happy?” Hap asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes.”

Prairie gave up on pacing and walked over to the sofa, cautiously avoiding the damaged coffee table, covered in water rings. As she slid downwards into the soft cushion, Hap couldn’t help but let his eyes wander over her.

“Tell me more.” He urged, rotating himself so that he was facing her. Prairie closed her eyes, tilting her head slightly.

“There isn’t anymore. I told you everything.”

“Tell me, did we touch? Did I… Did I kiss you?”

Prairie’s eyes stopped moving, searching for something to land on. Instead, they froze, pointed at an indistinct spot on the taupe carpet. “Yes.”

“Go make bacon and eggs for everyone. Bacon is in the meat cooler, eggs are on the top shelf to the far right.”

Prairie obeyed, standing and leaving the room. Hap remained on the sofa, suppressing the urge to do something he did not want to do.

Prairie walked down the spiral staircase carefully, holding two plates of food. Behind her, Hap held the other two, while also gripping her arm. She knew the steps well, despite.

“Prairie? Prairie!” Homer shouted, jumping up from his bed. He slammed himself against the glass as she approached, banging his hands against the unbreakable barrier.

“Homer,” she whispered, picking up her pace. She hurried towards his voice, pressing her forehead against the glass. “I missed you.”

A breeze rushed by her left leg and Prairie heard the small door open and a plate being scraped across the ground. “Yet again, you have Prairie to thank for this food.”

“I thought you were dead.” Homer uttered, his voice hollow in the glass prison. “But instead, you’re blind again.”

“I’ll tell you soon,” she whispered. Her arm was grabbed, her body pulled away.

“Stand there.” Hap stated and he took the plates from her. A few moments later, after three more doors creaked open and shut, Prairie felt Hap approach her, the air stirring with the scent of stale cigarettes. “Come on.” He grabbed the back of her upper arm, shoving her forward.

“You don’t have to push me. I know where I’m going.” She began to walk forward towards her cell, but Hap’s grip tightened.

“You’re not ready to be down here. I have to keep a closer eye on you.”

She swallowed heavily, and began to turn around. The sound of glass being hit echoed in the large, cold stone space. “What did you do to her, Hap!? Why can’t she see?”

Instead of answer, Hap continued to lead Prairie up the stairs and into the main part of the house. As the door shut and the keypad beeped, he released her. The woman reached a hand up to her face, wiping a tear from her cheek.

“Why didn’t you leave me down there?” She groaned, following him as he rushed through the house to enter the kitchen.

“Because you’re not well enough yet.”

“You’ve left me down there when I’ve been worse. Why now? Is it because of my NDE?”

He remained silent, sitting down in the chair before his desk. Prairie hovered in front of him, her arms down at her sides with her palms facing front.

“It’s because you want me, isn’t it?”

Again, he did not answer. It was simply because he could not think of a good enough lie.

“Answer me!” She screamed, shrill and painful to his ears.

“It’s because I don't know what to do with you. You're a mystery.”


	7. In the Nick of Time

Prairie laid in bed, her legs curled inwards towards her chest. Unable to fall asleep, she began to counter each of her fingers, one by one. Then, she counted them again. After a few minutes of this, she stopped counting, but continued to tap each finger to her thumb. The grandfather clock in the living room chimed, signaling midnight. With a sigh, Prairie sat up, rolling her head from side to side to feel the familiar burn of the pulling of her muscles. At the back of her head, her scalp pulled with the sutures that kept the edges of her laceration together. The pain gnawed at Prairie, radiating and wrapping around to her temples.

Turning her head to her left, a noise disturbed her; the door began to creak open. “I know you’re there.” She said matter-of-factly, pursing her lips as she waited for more movement. The fabric of his pants brushed together as Hap stepped forward, inching closer to her.

“Can’t sleep?”

“My head hurts too bad,” she whispered, the throbbing at the back of her skull nauseating her.

“I can give you something.”

“ _No_ ,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “I don’t want any medicine.”

The foot of the bed bent beneath Hap’s weight as he sat down, his thigh barely brush against the tip of her folded knee. “Hot tea?”

“No.”

“What can I do to make it better?” Prairie flinched as she felt his fingertips glaze over her forehead, flicking a strand of hair from her face. The years she spent with her sight were not enough to prepare her for this sudden change back to darkness.

“Take me back downstairs.”

“But this is better for you-- you need someone to watch you.”

“I have five people watching me at all times. Including you.” She argued, drawing her legs up to her chest. The room was dark, except for the light that snuck through the crack of the open door. A fire was crackling down the hall, a log shifting as it tossed embers out to be caught by the metal guard. Prairie longed to sit in front of the fire, to outstretch her hands to feel its warmth; the basement was so cold. She hadn’t felt warm in years.

“Don’t be upset with _me,_ Prairie. All of this was your fault. If you hadn’t lied to me--”

“Stop blaming me for things! _You_ were the one that shoved me! You could have killed me, Hap. Is that what you wanted? To have me dead? Then just _kill me_. End it.”

“You think I wish you were dead?” His voice fell, his heart plummeting to the dark hollow of his belly. Prairie remained silent, her back erect against the wooden mid-century headboard. Silently, Hap prayed that she was lying to him, hoping to get attention. But, he knew Prairie. It was not within her to say something so grievous.

“ _Prairie._ ” He huffed, his hand reaching out to rest on the top of her foot. She jumped, but remained with his touch upon her.

“Sometimes. Maybe it would make everything easier for us all. If I weren’t around, then…”

“Then I would be very unhappy.”

“Isn’t it enough that we’re all unhappy now? Let them go, Hap. Let them go and keep me. I’ll stay.”

Hap withdrew his hand, placing it in his lap. “Why do we keep coming back to this? Being up here is a privilege. One that you’re abusing. If you keep bringing this up, I’ll be forced to do something I don’t want to do. That none of us want.”

“What do I have to do for you to say yes?” She asked, her eyebrows folded together, hopeful.

“Good night, Prairie.”

Hap stood, leaving the room swiftly, careful not to trip over the camera. He closed and locked the door to his bedroom, tucking the key into his breast pocket. Walking into the kitchen, he reached into his medicine cabinet and removed the bottle of sleeping pills. After taking one with a full glass of milk, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and retreated to his sofa. Hap placed his laptop on his chest, tucking one hand behind his head as he laid lengthwise on the leather. He watched as Prairie tossed and turned, finally settling into a position on her side, her porcelain face towards the camera. He had witnessed her sleep hundreds of times, but that night, she was so close. It was almost as if he were like Homer, sharing a bed with her. He began to drift off, imagining himself holding her close to him.

Hap awoke a few hours later, his chest heaving as he came out of the nightmare. Sweat dripped from his forehead, his clothes clinging to his skin. The computer was resting on the coffee table, still open. Prairie lay on her side, facing the camera, hands covering her face. Hap wiped the sleep from his eyes, sitting up and reaching out to grab his tortoise shell glasses from a spot adjacent to the laptop.

As he made his way into the bedroom after unlocking the door, Hap realized Prairie wasn’t asleep. She laid on her side towards the camera, tears streaming down her face. Sobs erupted from her mouth, her breath hitching as she hyperventilated. He swiftly moved the camera from out of the way, falling to his knees before her. Prairie rolled onto her back, groaning with frustration.

“What’s the matter?”

Prairie continued to cry, her mouth now closed as the tears poured out of her eyes. “I haven’t slept alone in years.”

“Do you… Do you want me to sleep beside you?” Hap asked, silently hoping she agreed. He wanted nothing more than to be close to her, feel her body heat against his own form.

“Yes.” She whispered, almost shamefully. As she moved in the bed, her abdominal muscles protruded from her skin, displaying her daily commitment to exercise. Hap glanced down at his own belly, reminding himself that he should take better care of his body. She laid on one side, her spine curved as she waited for his form to mold against her. Hap scooted his body close, and let one arm fall over her waist. He breathed a sigh of contentment, while Prairie stiffened.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m just… I’m not used to touch. It’s almost painful.”

Hap slid his hand away from her, lying it over his own bare abdomen. “Would it help for you to touch me first?”

He imagined her hands learning his body, each hill and valley. Prairie nodded in response as she turned over to face him. Reaching her hands outward, her lips rolled apart as she found the plastic lenses of his glasses with her fingertips. She chuckled in surprise, lifting his glasses from his face and placing them above his head on the pillow. Studying the hollows of his eyes, Prairie continued to race her fingers over his forehead and then down to the arches of his cheekbones. Finally, she slid down the slope of his nose to land on his lips, dry from the cooler weather. Stopping, she moved her index finger over the cracked surface, imagining a desert ground broken in brownish taupe squares. She longed for her sight, to be able to see how blue his eyes were as they looked upon her.

“Are you looking at me?” Prairie questioned, one hand falling to lie on the bed while the other rested on his cheek.

“Yes.” Hap replied, feeling his manhood stiffen as she smiled slightly.

“Have you ever been married?”

“Married?” He questioned, knitting his eyebrows together in confusion.

“Yes,” she clarified, her hand now coursing up to have her spread fingers run through his black hair. “Married.”

“No. I’ve always been married to my work.”

“Don’t you long for intimacy? To be close like this to someone?”

“Who would ever marry me? My life is my work. I obsess over it.” He too outreached a hand to run it through her white-blonde hair. It was still soft from the wash he had given it days earlier, smelling richly of lavender.

“My mother used to say that there’s a Jack for every Jill. Do you believe in soulmates?”

“That one person is destined for another? No. The universe doesn’t work that way.”

Prairie chortled, rolling her eyes. “You say that only because you know the universe has multiple dimensions and that means there could be more than one soulmate for someone.”

Hap thought for a moment, and then let out a sigh. “Kiss me.” He said, his hand wrapping around her head. He felt the stitches beneath his fingertips.

“Not like this, Hap.” She argued, her eyes widening. Hap squeezed tighter, pulling the woman closer to his face. “You’re hurting me!” She moaned.

Their lips jammed together, Prairie shouting beneath him. She struggled, but instead of being able to fight, she felt herself grow weak. Hap opened his eyes realizing what was happening. He couldn’t stop himself. Her breath was hot, the taste of her bitter and sweet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it got kind of real here. What do you think?


	8. Like a Moth to a Flame

It was three days before Prairie said anything to Hap. In fact, she even avoided making eye contact, as best as she could. When she heard him come near, she cast her eyes down. On the fourth day, Prairie awoke in his bed, surprised to find him sprawled out next to her. As she shifted in the bed, her eyes opened suddenly as there was a wet spot beneath her back. Prairie stood and pressed her fingers against it, lifting it up to her nose. The metallic scent gave her comfort, but also frustrated her. She didn’t have any underwear on, and had bled through the sweatpants she wore.

Embarrassed, she went into the bathroom and removed the pants, running them under cold water. After scrubbing sufficiently, she took off her shirt and ran a hot bath. Feeling around for the soap, she found a bottle, opening the lid to smell it.

“It’s shampoo.”

Prairie jumped, nearly throwing the bottle up into the air. She immediately folded her arms over her breasts, facing away from Hap. “What are you doing in here?”

“I came to check on you. I saw you started your period.”

“Leave me alone.” She uttered disdainfully, her hair dripping down the mountain slopes of her spine.

“I provide menstrual pads and tampons for all the women once a month. Your cycles are tracked, Prairie.”

“For fuck’s sake, Hap. _Just let me be_.”

“Don’t be angry at me-- you were the one that invited me into bed.”

“But I told you no!” Prairie roared, flipping around and climbing out of the bathtub. She stood naked in front of him, her mons coated in strawberry blonde hair, her alabaster breasts sloping to a point at her pale pink nipples.

“Prairie--” He started, but she stepped furiously towards him, outstretching her arms in parallel lines to the floor. When she met his chest, she shoved him against the open door, it banging against the coiled door stopper, ringing annoyingly.

“You are always taking everything away from me! Don’t I have a choice in anything!? Stop fucking with me!” She screamed, batting her hands at his chest, drumming against the sonorous surface.

“Prairie, stop it.” Hap stated, firmly, but with love.

“What, you’ve never seen me _naked_ before?” She questioned, stepping back and raising her arms. The shadows of her axilla were lightly speckled with the short grass of growing hair. Spinning uncomfortably slow, Prairie displayed herself for her captor to view.

“Stop it!” Hap shouted, reaching out and grasping her on either bicep, shoving her arms to her side. He didn’t allow his eyes to wander over the smooth, apricot color of her skin, despite his yearning. Instead, he kept his eyes focused on her cornflower blue eyes, feeling himself grow hard as he fought the urge to let his gaze wander. “This is the concussion. This isn’t you.”

“But what if it is me? What if this is the product of you keeping me locked away for all of those years?” Prairie suggested, shrugging her shoulders with insolence. Her eyebrows peaked to the center of her forehead, her lips pursed.

“No. You’re too sweet. This isn’t you--all of you is too good. You’re _wholesome._ ” He attempted to convince not only himself, but the woman before him. Soon, the smile dissolved off of her face.

“Just keep telling yourself that.” She replied, shaking him from her. “Could I have a towel?”

Hap reached to his left, dragging the faded blue fabric from the rack. He placed it in her reaching hand, his bottom lip folding in between his teeth. Clenching his jaw, he felt his manhood twitch as she bent her head back as to separate her hair from her back, wrapping the towel around her fit torso.

“Do you have any underwear? I need some. And a tampon.” Prairie mumbled. Hap left her in the bathroom, hurrying out to the kitchen where a box of supplies was stuffed in one of the lower cabinets. He returned moments later bearing a zipped bag of brand new underwear and a box of tampons. She accepted them gratefully, asking for privacy as she took care of herself.

When she emerged from the bathroom, Prairie walked down the hall to the bedroom, her head throbbing. She handed Hap the box of tampons and new underwear after finding him sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Would you do something for me?” She asked as she stood, the towel still hugging her body. Her hair hung wetly to her neck, crawling like ivy down her spine.

“Anything.”

“Take me outside. Just for a minute. I promise I’ll behave. I just… I need to be outside.”

“You’d better put on some clothes first. I got you a new dress and shirt, as well as a sweater.” Hap replied, lifting up the small box he had wrapped for her from the bed. “Hold out your hands.” He ordered.

Prairie outstretched her arms, palms facing the sky. When the box was placed on her forearms, she bent her elbows and hugged the parcel to her chest. Placing it on her lap, she cautiously opened the gift.

“The dress is very similar to your old one. Except this one is white with pale blue stripes running vertically. The long sleeved-shirt is grey and the sweater is white. It’s thick, so it should keep you warm.”

“What happened to my old clothes?” She asked as she held the fabric up to her cheek, rubbing the soft, new cotton against her face.

“There was too much blood. They were ruined, I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay. But, I hope because I got new clothes the others will also get new clothes.”

Hap hadn’t thought of this, but he made a mental note to do a favor for Prairie. He wanted nothing more than to do one small deed that redeemed some of his bad behavior.

“I’m going to step out. You get dressed and I’ll wait outside the door for you. Then we’ll go outside.”

The keypad beeped and the door opened with the sound of suction breaking free. Cool air rushed into the kitchen, nearly knocking Prairie onto her back. She felt Hap’s hand take ahold of hers, leading her out onto the deck. The air was damp with the smell of rotting leaves, small raindrops falling from hanging surfaces. A shower had come through earlier in the morning, enough rain to leave puddles in the yard. Birds cried in the distance, echoing in the quarry.

“Thank you,” she uttered beneath her breath. Prairie turned towards Hap, her hand still wrapped in his. Slipping it from his thick palm, the woman tumbled forward slightly to find the railing on the porch. “Hap, I--”

Before he could catch her, Prairie plummeted to the ground, convulsing. Hap witnessed her arms posture at her center, her body rigid.

“Oh. Oh God!” He exclaimed, racing back inside to fumble in his medicine cabinet. When he returned, the woman was still seizing. Hap fell to his knees, aggressively grabbing at one of her arms. He found a vein pulsing in her forearm and placed the needle in, pushing the Ativan quickly into her bloodstream.

Prairie’s body slowly fell away from the seizure, growing limp and flaccid with the medication rushing through her. As she laid on the porch, Hap lifted his shaking hands in the air, staring at them. He had witnessed many seizures before, but they were never someone he cared for. This fear paralyzed him, the needle and syringe tossed away, at the edge of the porch, ready for one breeze to blow it to the ground.


	9. If I Go, I'm Going

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Towards the end of this chapter, there is a significant scene in which the quotes from the characters do not belong to me. They are taken explicitly from the TV show. However, my descriptions in between are written with my own hand. The words written by Zal and Brit are in italics. Thanks for reading <3

It was nearly a day until Prairie woke again. For the first few hours, Hap paced around the living room, praying to whatever god would listen. Every so often, he would check her carotid pulse, and breathe a sigh of relief at the feeling of her heart beat. He finally gave in to sleep that night, his feet propped up on the coffee table while he slept in his computer chair.

The morning light cast off the snow, bouncing in prisms in the dimly lit room. Hap spent the morning working, only stopping to brew a pot of coffee.

“What happened this time?” Prairie questioned, sitting up from her position on the sofa. “What did you hit me with?”

Hap swiveled around from his computer, sighing with relief. It was the middle of the afternoon. “Nothing. You had a seizure.”

“Oh. Sorry.” She grimaced, her eyes still shut. She smacked her lips, the bitterness of blood swishing around in her mouth. “I think I bit my tongue,” she uttered.

Climbing to his feet, Hap crossed the room to crouch down at her side. He grasped her chin with his thumb and index finger, pinching as he prompted her to open her mouth. He nodded as he inspected it: “You’re right. Not bad. But enough to draw blood.”

“Did my concussion make me have a seizure?” She questioned, sitting up. Hap’s hands pressed against her shoulders, pushing her back against the sofa.

“Don’t get up,” Hap ordered. “And yes. I think your head injury caused your seizure. You really need to rest. No getting up. A dark room, no distractions.”

“So… I can’t go back downstairs?” She questioned, eyes hopeful.

Hap sighed with disappointment, wringing his hands. He pinched the bridge of his nose, groaning. He had hardly slept at all over the last 24 hours. He dozed periodically, but when he did, it was fitful bouts of rest. As well, he had been afraid that Prairie wouldn’t come out of her post-ictal state.

“No, Prairie. Stop asking.”

“Sorry,” she whispered.

“Are you that desperate to get back to Homer that you would risk your health?” He interrogated, his voice sharp like a knife’s edge. The words tasted bitter coming out of his mouth. Hap was tired of hearing her talk about Homer. Homer Homer Homer. Nothing but Homer. Who the fuck even names their kid Homer? Hap thought.

“No! No.” She interjected, her hand flying out, searching for him in her space. Her delicate fingers fondled the collar of his button-down shirt, feeling the worn cotton at his neck. His eyelids fluttered shut, the innocent moment raising the hair on his head and jolts of shivers down his spine. But, he was angry with her. He outgrew the moment of bliss, returning to his island of misery.

“Stop asking me.”

“It’s just that’s where I’m used to.”

“What if you were used to being up here? With me?” He offered, his voice softening. “You already know your way around from before… Before things escalated.”

“I couldn’t.” She had hesitated, sitting on her words for a moment.

“Because of the others?”

Prairie nodded, her eyes wandering around, searching. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, her apricot nostrils flaring as she took a deep breath. “I can’t. It’s not right for me to be up here. I’m one of them.”

“You’d rather be one of them than with me?” Hap spat, pushing up on the sofa to come to his feet. He’d had it. Prairie didn’t want to be anywhere near him. She wanted to be with the others, in captivity, rather than to be with him.

Prairie remained silent, unable to form words. Of course she would rather be upstairs with him, enjoying the feel of sunlight on her skin, tasting the herbs that she pulled from his garden, listening to him ramble about the work. But, deep inside, it felt wrong. While the others suffered in the basement, she would lavish in luxury? No. Prairie couldn’t.

“Fine. You can stay in the dark for a week. That will give you enough time to rest.” Hap grunted, bearing his teeth as he reached down, yanking at her arm so she came to her feet.

“No! Hap, please!” Prairie pleaded, her free hand flailing around in the air, swiping at him. She finally felt his shoulder against her palm and she dug her nails into him. Growling, Hap came to a halt before the open bedroom door,

“Please don’t leave me in the dark! I’m already there,” she begged, clawing at him as he shoved her into the bedroom, closing and locking the door. “Hap! Please!”

He placed his back against the door, clenching his eyes shut, contemplating. He was torn, part of him wanting to open the door and pull her out. The other, to keep her locked away, like Rapunzel in the tower. He exhaled heavily, walking away.

“Hap, please! Let me out! I’m giving up,” she moaned the next day, lying in the fetal position in front of the bedroom door. She lost track of time, the absence of human discussion depriving her of her senses. Eventually, she lost track of the days. By the fifth day, Prairie had succumbed to counting. She counted from 1 to 1,000 before the door was opened for lunch. Then, she began to sing. Since there was no one to talk to, she hummed the song she played for her father, repeating it over and over. Then, on the sixth day, she began to sing Rachel’s song, I Wish I Knew. Or, so it had been titled.

With each passing moment, Hap thought about letting her out. But, he was bitter. How could she not want to be up in the house with him? She was being selfish and foolish, he thought. But, if she wanted to be isolated in the damn cell, away from him, then so be it. Six days passed before he said a word to her, finally unlocking the bedroom door that night.

“If you want to go back down there so badly, then fine. I’ll take you down there.”

“Hap, wait. Please, you have to understand, I--” Prairie started, climbing to her feet from lying on the bed.

“I don’t have to understand anything.” He interrupted acidly. Letting her walk in front of him, Hap guided her with his voice, down the hallway, through the living room, and finally to the locked door.

“I’m sorry, I--”

“It’s too late.” He pushed her off the end of the stairs, Prairie stumbling, but catching herself. The only sound around them was the trickling of the stream, coursing through the pentagon of glass cells. When she stepped into her cell, she felt the familiarity of the air, the scent of herself in the space.

“I would never stay up there with you.” She uttered disdainfully, her lower jaw jutting out as her arms dangled at her sides.

Hap narrowed his eyes and slammed her door shut, locking it with the keys attached to his belt. He stormed up the stairs and into his living room, taking his fist and plummeting it into the wall near the side door, leading to his porch. Letting out a loud shout, he shook his hand, hoping to flick the pain away from his knuckles.

Now, he was alone, away from her influence. She was locked away, where he had control over her. But, he felt a sense of awareness that needed to be addressed. He needed someone to confide in, and he knew exactly who to go to.

Leon.

Hap studied himself in the mirror, his eyes squinting as he applied a cotton ball soaked in hydrogen peroxide to the laceration on his forehead. He questioned whether or not he looked as old as he was. The fine lines of aging were present at the corners of his eyes. The bridge of his nose stuck out too far, his eyebrows were thick and in need of a trim. His brilliant blue eyes--bloodshot. He had killed a man. Not just any man. His friend. Someone he cared about. But, he had to protect the work. He had to protect Prairie.

As he hooked up the electrodes to Prairie’s alabaster chest, Hap peered at her over his glasses. _“I hope you know I’ve always thought of you--well-- all of you, as collaborators, but you, most of all, I like to think of as a partner.”_

 _“Don’t.”_ Prairie replied quickly, pulling her hair into a tight bun at the back of her head.

 _“And I know we’re both worried about the same thing. Will we ever get the fifth movement?”_ Hap questioned, helping Prairie get situated in the seat, watching as she buckled the vest over herself. He secured it.

_“One of us will find it.”_

_“What then? What will you do with it? You and Homer will live fat, free and happy in some different version of this world?”_ He stated with sarcasm, squeezing the bottle of gel into her open palm. Prairie smoothed the clear liquid over her head and ears, preparing herself for the tan sleeve that fit over her. Hap scoffed. _“You don’t want that.”_

He continued, leaning over to adjust her feet at the base of the stand. _“You’ll always be the girl willing to risk everything for the chance to achieve something extraordinary… I know you, Prairie. He’ll never understand that about you.”_

Hap lifted the tan sleeve from the arm rest, Prairie snatching it from his hands. She shook it out then pulled it over her head, snug as it dragged over her face and settled beneath her chin. Prairie remained silent, her eyes focused forwards, attempting to avoid even looking in his direction.

Hap clung to the edge of the sleeve, where the tank met the bottom, pulling at the metal lip. _“I have a proposal for you. We leave… Tomorrow. We suspend the work, we take the first two movements, which we know can heal.”_ He moved his hands, giving Prairie a persuasive presentation.

 _“We set up a clinic somewhere remote, an island maybe. And we cure the incurable. And the world’s wealthiest. We take their money, our technology, and we continue to work in secret.”_ His voice was raspy and low, like driving over gravel.

Prairie eyebrows were bent together, her eyes racing over the ground, bouncing all around as she contemplated the words Hap spoke. _“And the others?”_ She asked, suspicious.

 _“I’ll take… That’s a detail. I will take care of them.”_ Hap stammered, his hands fumbling in the air.

 _“What happened?”_ Prairie questioned, moving her hands from the arm rests. She reached out, feeling Hap’s face. As she drummed her fingers over the features of him, she felt over the laceration on the right side of his forehead. Prairie retracted her hands, inhaling sharply. _“Who did that to your head? Something happened.”_

Hap’s eyebrows moved up and down as he narrowed his eyes, stepping back from her slightly. Then, he moved forward, shoving Prairie’s hands into their place, fastening the restraints around her forearms. _“I had to protect the work. I did what I had to do.”_

 _“Prairie,”_ Hap’s voice grew concerned, his fingers grabbing a hold of the metal lip once more, his eyes looking directly at hers. Despite her milky blue orbs not meeting his gaze, Hap hoped she could feel his eye contact. _“Please.... I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”_

 _“I will not go with you.”_ Prairie stated, stretching her neck proudly and defiantly.

Hap finished setting up the small tank, fastening the metal lip to the glass. He walked around to the control room, settling in as he placed the headphones over his ears. As she convulsed, air escaped from her nostrils and mouth, her heartbeat accelerating in his ears. And then, nothing. She flat-lined, the monitor behind him droning an annoying tone. Hap looked away, nearly removing the headphones. But, he inhaled sharply and focused on the work, just as he always did.


	10. Remember This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, the quotes in italics are those taken directly from the TV show. They are not my words.

“Homer?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you mad at me?” Her voice was quiet, almost mouse-like. Homer held trepidation in his voice,

“No. Never. Why would you say that?”

“Because she’s been up there fucking Hap.” Scott interjected, his voice icy.

“Shut up!” Rachel shouted.

“Is that why you think I would hate you?” Homer’s voice fell, hurt. Prairie’s heart ached, knowing that she came very close to the act itself, but her conscious spoke against it.

“No!” She heard the rustling of his sheets and the scraping of his bed against the floor. “Homer. I would never.”

“Then what were you doing up there? Why didn’t you help us escape?”

“Because--Because I--”

“Just tell me, Prairie.” Homer said painfully.

“He pushed me, and I fell against the kitchen counter. Actually, he shoved me so hard that I lost a pulse. Then a few days later, I had a seizure. He… He got mad at me, then. Something… Something happened and he got really mad and locked me in his bedroom in the dark for a week. It was horrible. Worse than this. Like solitary confinement.”

“Oh my God,” Rachel whispered, shocked.

“There wasn’t anyway for me to help. I tried. After I came to when I hit my head, I was almost able to get out. But I didn’t have the opportunity because he found me in the bathroom.”

“Did he… Did he hurt you in other ways?” Homer questioned, his face pressed close against the glass. Prairie’s heart leapt, realizing that he had come near to her once again.

“He,” she swallowed. Should she tell them what happened? “He slept beside me.”

“You shared a bed with him?”

“I didn’t realize it! He must have come in during the night. I tried to get back down here--I fought so hard.” Prairie cried, sitting up on the bed to pull her knees to her chest.

“You promise that nothing happened?” Homer had grown soft again, obviously doubtful of Prairie’s words.

“I promise. On my life.”

“What happened just now? With you and Hap?” Rachel asked. Prairie and Homer sat with their backs to each other against the glass. He had his fingers folded before his lips, thinking.

_“When we were in the lab, he confided in me. He was really scared. He talked about wanting to leave. I think he may have killed someone. He talked about wanting to take me with him.”_ Prairie shook her head, sighing heavily. _“I don’t know, maybe I should have said yes. In exchange for your freedom… For everyone’s freedom.”_

Homer turned his attention to her. _“Don’t talk like that!”_

_“I don’t think there’s another way to talk, Homer. It’s like we’ve reached some sort of dead end and determination just isn’t enough, and… Fuck.”_ She fought back tears. _“What did we think was gonna happen, anyway?”_

_“We thought that…”_ Homer started. _“We don’t know.”_

_“Show up on some other plane of reality and… do what exactly?”_

Homer began to talk about a garden, while upstairs, Hap was listening to the video of Saturn once again.

Silence fell over the group, no one talking, but everyone thinking. That night, she laid in bed, thinking back to the NDE with Hap just hours earlier. She shivered, thinking about how cold she had been. Calling out for Khatun, desperately hoping that she would come and rescue Prairie. Or, at least give her the fifth movement. But, when the metal lip of the sleeve broke free from the tank and the water rushed out, Prairie knew she hadn’t been given anything but more darkness.

_“I can’t get warm.”_ Prairie shivered, her teeth chattering as her wet hair dripped onto the space blanket. Hap’s hand had rubbed over her leg, creating warmth with the friction.

“ _Well, you will. Your body temperature dropped to hypothermic levels.”_ He took the edge of the blanket, wrapping it tighter around her body and curled her fingers around to pinch it together. _“Now, there was a sound,”_

Prairie sighed heavily. _“There wasn’t anything. I didn’t see anyone or hear any--”_

“ _I-I heard something very faint, very low frequency, but I… I managed to track it, isolate it. I need your help. What I need you to do is--”_

Prairie sighed once more, still shivering. She had grown frustrated at Hap’s insistence that she help. _“I can’t. I don’t want to. I am not your lab partner, I am not your friend. I am your slave.”_

Hap had reached his hands out for her, his lips moving to interject, but his eyes fell at her last sentence. Slave. She wasn’t wrong, but he desperately wanted her to be. He had tried, wanting her to go away with him.

“ _You wanna know what happens on the other side? Put yourself in that machine and die for it.”_

Hap held up a hand in understanding, hopefully persuading her. “ _I know you’re exhausted. So, I’ll make it very easy for you. I’m just going to play you some sounds of where I think you may have been, and you tell me if you recognize them. All right? So how about this?”_

He tapped a key on the computer keyboard, a white noise emitted from the speakers. Prairie inhaled. _“I told you, I didn’t go anywhere.”_

Hap pressed the key again. _“This?”_ A choir began to sing monotone.

_“Please, just take me back to my cell.”_

_“Or this?”_ On the third time, a soft, wave-like sound came from the speakers and Prairie opened her eyes, recognizing it.

_“Haha! See. I knew it. There was a sound.”_

_“So what?”_ Prairie questioned, hugging the blanket tighter around her. _“You record our NDEs.”_

_“No, no, no. That’s not a recording of your NDE. That’s a recording of, um,”_ Hap started. _“Waves of electrons captured in plasma by a machine of great sensitivity that has traveled way beyond the heliosphere. Decades! But, you know, it takes years to reap the rewards, right?”_

He flipped the computer monitor around to show her, but then realized… She couldn’t see. Hap had displayed a video on YouTube. _“The rings of Saturn.”_ He chuckled softly, a slight wheeze as he smiled.

_“They sing. That’s where you were.”_

The lights buzzed on and Prairie sat up, hearing Scott shouting. _“Oh my God! Oh my God!”_ He banged on the window.

“What’s happening?” Prairie asked Homer under her breath.

“There’s a sheriff or someone with a gun at Hap’s head.” Prairie climbed to her feet, her hands pressed against the glass door. She listened carefully.

_“Which ones do you need?”_

_“This one, and this one.”_ Hap stated, stopping first at Prairie’s cell. _“This man’s wife is sick. And you two are gonna heal her.”_ Prairie heard the lock at her door click open and she hesitated, waiting.

_“Come on.”_ Hap ordered, and Prairie obeyed.


	11. Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet again, the italicized quotes are not my words, but taken from the tv show directly. Written by Brit and Zal. <3

Prairie and Homer followed Hap, a gun pointed to the backs of their heads. Prairie knew the way, her fingers curling around the familiar cold metal of the spiral staircase, and the soft carpet beneath her bare feet as she entered Hap’s house. Then, she stood in the bedroom, positioned directly across from Homer, Stan’s wife huddled in the center of Hap’s bed. Prairie very gently knelt down and moved her fingers over Evelyn’s face, her own softening with sympathy at the crippled woman.

 _“You understand what’s happening, right?”_ Homer asked, one eyebrow flat as the other raised inquisitively. _“If we don’t heal the sheriff’s wife, Hap goes to prison.”_

Prairie, befuddled, clarifies with Homer. _“So we just don’t move?”_

 _“We move, but we just don’t do it right.”_ He replies, his hands trembling at his sides. He’d never been in the house before, not since the day Hap took him there. And never, had Homer ever been in Hap’s bedroom. The private sanctuary that Prairie had spent so much time was foreign to him, an exotic mahogany place filled with artifacts all over the world.

Evelyn sneezed, her hands contractured into the center of her body, her legs bent at the knee, stiff-like.

 _“We can’t not,”_ Prairie whispers, her eyes darting in the direction of the sudden burst of sound.

 _“Don’t you see? The sheriff’s all hyped up, but when this doesn’t work, he’ll crash. Hap will look mad and he’ll turn him in.”_ Evelyn sneezed again, Homer turning his face away as to avoid the shame of his proposal.

 _“If we don’t try to help her, then we aren’t who we say we are.”_ Prairie stated matter-of-factly. Evelyn’s breath was shallow and jagged, coarse as her lungs struggled to breathe against her weakening muscles.

Prairie closed her eyes, inhaling and then began the movements, Homer following seconds later. For what seemed like hours, the pair stood on either side of the bed and performed the first and second movements over Evelyn’s ailing body. Her eyes, glassy and black, stared up in wonder at Homer and Prairie, amazed and in awe of their movements. Moments later, the electricity went out, Homer performing the movements in the dark, just as Prairie had always one.

Just as Prairie clapped her hands together at her waist, Evelyn’s hand shot out and grabbed a hold of Prairie’s. The blonde woman let out a gasp of shock as Evelyn’s fingers gripped hers with a new birth of strength.

 _“You’re here.”_ Evelyn uttered, her words thick as she swallowed them. _“You’re finally here… I need to tell you a story about when I was a little girl. I was out swimming in the waves and I got lost. They were too big and I felt myself go under and it got so dark and black and cold, and then suddenly, I was outside my body.”_

 _“And there was a small white light,”_ she continued, her hand still around Prairie’s. _“And I moved towards it. And at the center of that light was a little girl. And the little girl said: ‘One day, you will help two captive angels. It will be very hard. It will be very… painful. But you must stay alive to give this to them. And a white moth flew from her mouth into mine. I swallowed it. I have held it inside me, waiting for you to come. Would you like to know what it is?”_ Evelyn asked, her eyes glancing back from Prairie’s to Homer’s gaze.

Then, Evelyn, pulling Prairie and Homer close, said: _“Come closer… It’s almost over… But I get to hold my Stan one more time. Will you guard it with your lives?”_

Prairie nodded her head emphatically. _“We will.”_

_“The fifth movement-”_

_“How do we--How do we use it? How do we, um, escape?”_ Homer interjected.

 _“It’s a matter of will,”_ Evelyn replied. _“It’s always a matter of will. Only a person of great determination can swim to another side… Are you ready?”_

Once so ill she was unable to move, Evelyn pushed herself up to a sitting position, refusing help from the couple. She placed her hands over her face, her right hand with two fingers pointed into both of her eyes. As she dragged her fingers down, her left hand wrapped around her right. She breathed a sigh of relief at the end, Prairie practicing as Homer stepped around to the end of the bed.

The door broke open, Stan rushing in as Prairie and Homer met, their hands brushing one another as their faces came within inches of meeting. Stan wrapped his arms around his wife, finding her on the bed, embracing one another. Then, a shot broke through the air, ringing in their ears. Both Stan and Evelyn collapsed back onto the bed, Evelyn’s eyes wide with shock. Prairie and Homer cowered, falling away from each other in fright.

Hap, shaking with fury, held the gun in his right hand, it pointed to the ground. He watched Prairie and Homer, lovers, close to one another. Jealousy burned sour in his core. _“Get away,”_ he uttered, broken-hearted. His breath increased, watching as Prairie’s hand brushed over the open shirt at Homer’s chest.

 _“Don’t touch him! Get away from him!”_ Hap roared. _“Get out! I will shoot Homer. Get out!”_

He pointed the gun at the younger man, Prairie’s eyes wide as she fumbled by Homer. Just as she began to pass Hap, he shoved her behind him, his gun pointed at his enemy. Hap slammed the bedroom door, locking Homer in while he dealt with Prairie. They tousled, Prairie shoving Hap as he pushed her against the door, her palms flat against the surface.

 _“Homer!”_ She cried. Soaring, Prairie couldn’t focus. She had touched Homer. After seven years, away from human contact, she had touched the man she loved. _“Homer!”_ She cried once more.

 _“OA!”_ Homer called out for her, just as Hap stepped forward and plunged a needle into her bicep, injecting a sedative into her.

 _“Homer,”_ she moaned, her hands slipping away from the door as her body slumped to the ground. Hap turned away, disgusted with himself as he reached a decision.

Beneath her, the surface was soft, yet hard. The noise, roaring around her, was so loud that it caused her head to throb. The smell in the car was familiar, musk and cigarettes. Prairie realized Hap was driving, but she had no idea where they were going. As she repositioned herself in the backseat, the car swerved over onto the gravel shoulder, coming to a halting stop.

Hap’s door opened and then closed, Prairie sitting up slightly. Then, the door at her feet opened and Hap shouted at her to get out. She pushed herself away, against the opposite side, but his hands found her ankles, grabbing at her. Hap grunted, Prairie whimpering as she pulled her from the car, throwing her to the ground like useless trash. She shivered, the air frigid against her bare skin. Her body burned, the hard ground stabbing at her.

Then, a knife. It was cold and sharp, pressed at her throat. The metal blade pressed against her sensitive skin, and she was afraid it would break the skin.

 _“Did you think you were indispensable to the work? To me?”_ Hap spat, straddling the woman. _“Well, you’re not. I have the fifth movement. I have Homer. I don’t… I don’t need you.”_

His voice, low and gravely, twisted and stabbed in her, harder than a knife ever would. _“I’m leaving you exactly as I found you. I don’t have to kill you. And even if you get back, we’ll be gone. In another dimension, all of us. And you’ll be all alone.”_ His voice cracked, fighting back tears.

Prairie’s breath, ragged and torn like her dress, nearly broke into sobs as she felt Hap’s eyes stare at her shriveled soul. _“With nothing. With no one.”_

He took his knife and cut through the strap of her dress, baring her breast into the harsh environment. Prairie gasped, shaking as Hap crawled off of her. Hap took off, hurrying to the car as she struggled to gain her balance. She jumped, her fingers fumbling for the door handle, just as the vehicle starts and peels away.

She followed its sound, running as fast as she could after Hap… After Homer.

 _“Come back!”_ She screamed at the top of her lungs, her feet pounding against the freezing road. _“Come back!”_

But, he didn’t. She went after him.


End file.
